Poem For My Father

I looked up and I saw you
in the mirror by the stairs.

You had that floppy hat on,
the one you wore when
you were acting goofy.

Crooked smile, laughing eyes, yea?
It was you alright.

The times are different now.
Everybody is either serious
or oblivious–not much in between.
There are whole art forms disappearing–goofiness among them.

I call it the speedy time.
Mostly what we have achieved
since you left is speeding life up.

There is no future anymore.
Look around the next corner–
there is the future.
It’s here already.

So here I am
writing a letter to the past,
hoping you’ll read it there

where you still have time
to rub two thoughts together.

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